Michael Morpurgo is a remarkable person. Liberal in outlook but authoritarian in delivery, he has written more than 100 children's books, including the famous War Horse. With his wife Clare he also founded and ran the charity Farms for City Children, providing more than 100,000 inner-city British schoolchildren with the experience of a week's work in the traditional countryside of Devon.

As Children's Laureate, a post he was partly instrumental in creating, he has toured with fearsome energy, entertaining schools with his unique style of dramatic story-telling.

A born leader, had he been present at whatever age as a character in William Golding's melancholy fable Lord of the Flies, the otherwise doomed island would surely have been run with exemplary efficiency and decency. These achievements are well described in Maggie Fergusson's biography, which also contains numerous family photographs. But despite the cosy relationship she has with her subject she offers him no comfortable ride. Every aspect of Morpurgo's life is covered, starting with his childhood.

His mentally fragile mother and competitive stepfather constantly discouraged him from hearing anything about his biological father.

Morpurgo has now written seven new short stories inspired by reading sections of this biography as it was being written. These are included in the finished work. As with his novels, some work better than others.

Fergusson mentions Morpurgo's struggle with depression and the problems he now feels partially responsible for within his immediate family. There is nothing new in children's writers having difficulties with their own offspring.

As Samuel Butler once observed of clergymen, they work at home and are therefore hard to escape from even when a short breathing space might be a good idea. Being professionally involved with children also runs the risk that those in the family sometimes come off feeling second-best, which happened with Enid Blyton's daughters.

Doing right by legions of other children can be an exhausting business, occasionally leaving the tank dangerously low for home life.

There was also the problem of near-neighbour Ted Hughes, for Morpurgo a valued and beloved friend but for his sons increasingly resented as an egotistical interloper.

There is little about the novels here, which is a shame, as some are much too good to miss. The War of Jenkins' Ear and The Butterfly Lion are both compelling stories set in boarding schools and Private Peaceful is a fine anti-war novel, soon to be released as a film.

Aged 70 next year, Morpurgo has worked hard for his success. This compassionate and appreciative biography of a good man is nothing less than his due.